It's time for an update, and by update I mean talking about some upcoming performances! This post will focus on an older work which will be getting a fair amount of playtime over the next several months, an orchestral piece calledTracks.

First, some background on the work. Tracks was written during my first semester of graduate work at Central Michigan University. My composition professor, David Gillingham, brought to my attention a contest being held by the Duluth-Superior Symphony for young composers. The task was to write a 6-minute orchestral overture to be performed by the group the following spring. He thought it would be a great challenge for me to try and get a large-scale work done in a few months (this was September, the contest's due date was in December). My still-naïve-new-grad-student mind thought "sure, this'll be a piece of cake," which within a week turned into "oh dear, what have I gotten into?" I had done a wind ensemble piece the year before, but the standard orchestral instrumentation and limited timeframe were something I had not encountered yet!

Thankfully, I got over my anxieties and got the piece finished just in time for the due date. It later went on to win first prize in the contest and was given its world premiere in Duluth in March of 2014. I also entered it into a contest by the Holland Symphony the following year, which was seeking appropriate piece that a youth orchestra could perform. I guess Tracksfit that bill too, since it also won first place! That specific performance is slotted for April 29th of 2017. The specific performance information can be viewed here(and you can even buy tickets for it already!). In the meantime, Tracks will be getting its Kansas debut next month by the Kansas State University Symphony Orchestra (which I was a part of all four years of my time there as an undergrad), led by Dr. David Littrell. That performance is free and specific info can be found here (concert starts at 7:30 PM).

I figured it wouldn't hurt to go into the guts of the piece a little in this post, but before doing so I recommend you listen to the piece first. I've put a MIDI rendering below (live performance advocates: my apologies, but I unfortunately didn't get a recording of the piece when it was premiered. That will change come September!)

﻿My overall intention for the piece was to pay homage to the diesel-powered trains which took over the rails from steam engines in the middle of the 20th century. I've grown up literally surrounded by trains, as my hometown of Olathe, Kansas has two extremely busy freight lines running through it. There are easily a dozen trains moving through a day, which acclimated my ears to their distinct mechanical rumbles and loud horn calls. My dad is also what you might consider a train nut, and I remember taking several trips on Amtrak (our nation's national rail service) with him throughout my childhood (and by myself throughout grad school, as it was cheaper to ride Amtrak home than fly!).

I also wanted to honor the very hard-working people who not only operate these vehicles, but who serve the thousands of rail travelers and maintain the thousands of miles of track in our country each year. Finally, the piece is written in memory of Shirley Craig, my paternal grandmother. A very kind and caring woman, Shirley was also quite a determined and independent sort of person whose character could best be described in terms of a diesel locomotive!

Now, onto how I made this train run! In terms of the piece's rhythmic content, I have two primary motives. The first is the "tracks" motive, meant to emulate the sound a train's wheels make when going over gaps in the track. The original form (shown below) makes its appearance in the low strings at 0:17 and is continually heard in some form or another throughout the piece.

Probably the easiest place to hear the rhythm changed is when the main theme is stated at 0:30. Here, the note values are stretched out to include quarter- and half-notes, then eighth-notes.

​The other rhythmic idea is what I call the "signal" motive, which duplicates the long-long-short-long series of horn blasts a train makes as it approaches a crossing. One firsts hears this in the brass at the piece's outset, but like the "tracks" motive this rhythm constantly shows up both unchanged (for when I want to show the musical "train" approaching) and rhythmically augmented or diminished.

Moving onto melodic and harmonic material, I decided to infuse the piece with the pitches of the Airchime K5LA, which is widely used on Amtrak trains as well as freight engines. The five pitches (D#, F#, G#, B, high D#) are almost the same as a B pentatonic scale (missing the C#), so I decided to set the piece in B major at the outset.

Now, those of you with perfect pitch maybe caught the fact that none of those five pitches were heard when the "horn" sounds at :07. This is intentional, and so is the dramatic pitch slide into the "correct" pitches at :16. Here, I was mimicking the Doppler Effect, which increases the pitch of an approaching sound source relative to a listener, then gradually lowers it as the source passes by the listener. I allude to the effect twice more throughout the piece, once at the key change to E-flat major at 2:17-18 (where the tonic note of B slides into B-flat, the fifth of the new tonic chord), then again at the piece's conclusion at about 5:15-16.

Formally, the piece follows the fast-slow-fast sectional format of a concert overture. I'm not going to go into much more detail than that (this post is FAR too long already!), but I will say the transition from fast to slow occurs from around 2:10 to 2:20, then the return to a quicker tempo happens abruptly at 4:23.

I know this isn't an exhaustive, graduate-level analysis, but hopefully I got the gist of the piece across. My goal was to use just a few compositional elements (as described above) to create a complete and entertaining "ride" for both listeners and performers. I encourage you to listen to the piece several times and try and catch all the various implementations of said elements!

It's been quite some time since I've written on this thing, let alone update my site. I attribute this to the several upheavals that have occurred in my life since graduating with my Masters last May. I moved back to Kansas City, hoping to find some sort of teaching gig and build up a percussion/composition teaching studio again. The teaching gigs did eventually happen...somewhat. I got a job teaching and writing for Blue Valley Southwest's Front Ensemble, which also indirectly led to being hired as a Special Education Para at the same school.

Why the shift in subject? A lack of options was one factor; I really, REALLY needed a job in order to move out of my parents' house and other jobs I applied for simply did not cut it. It also turns out that due to my previous private teaching experience that I was more than qualified to be a para, who acts as a teaching assistant to students in need of extra help. The specific program I was attached to was called Navigators, which primarily aided students on the autism spectrum.

I was more than a little intimidated at first with my job, considering just a few month's prior I was intensely involved with a music theory pedagogy class and knew next to nothing about education outside of music. But as the weeks went by a strange thing happened: I discovered I was somewhat...GOOD at what I was doing! I really liked interacting with and aiding the students I was assigned to, and combining the day job with the marching band activities in the evenings gave me quite a fun (albeit busy) fall. In fact, I started considering going back to school, getting a Masters in Special Ed., and becoming a certified teacher.

Please don't consider this a case of me throwing in the towel on my musical career. I was still planning on doing my regular composing/instructing/performing schtick, but having a decently-paying day job (with medical benefits!) was a big bonus, compared to the somewhat long amount of time it would take to achieve a similar pay- and benefit structure in higher education. At the end of October, however, these plans got uprooted by a phone call.

Specifically, I was called by Cort McClaren, owner of C. Alan Publications, about a job offer. They needed someone who could act not only as a music editor, but also as an audio specialist to make sure our website had proper recordings for new pieces. Considering the tangental career shift I was previously about to make, the opportunity to work the "private sector" of music was too good to pass up. I finished the fall semester in the Blue Valley Schools, then packed my car with as much as I could and moved to Greensboro, North Carolina.

That was six months ago. The acclimation process to my newest job took much less time than the para job did, which wasn't much of a surprise considering my previous musical training. Still, I've gotten much better not only in the realm of editing music for publication, but also making mock-ups of pieces using orchestral sample libraries. Both of these areas were ones I had done before, but not really as part of a class of any sort. However, if anything this past year has taught me, it's that learning also takes place in the wild lands of real life as well as in institutions.

So what's next for me? Now that I'm settled in, expect me to post much more often and also expand my social media presence elsewhere, particularly on FaceBook and Twitter. My FaceBook page has already been set up at www.facebook.com/bcraigmusic and the Twitter will be forthcoming. My website has been updated with my latest pieces and recordings, and I will likely be posting an update on my current projects next week.

In conclusion, it's awesome to be back in music "full-time" after a rather long period of upheaval and uncertainty. Now the challenge is to keep the music momentum going!

I know, I know, I'm still not doing too well on this whole "weekly posting" schtick. That's mostly due to my forgetful nature and also the nature of the last few weeks, which have been anything but CRAZY!

For the whole month of July I've been in a music history class at CMU, learning from the great Dr. Keith Clifton. We've gone over everything from Beethoven to Brahms to Babbitt, and it's been a great time getting to know more about these important figures in music (even Babbitt, whose music I personally don't care much for, but still has good things to offer).

My term project for the class has been on the Estonian composer Arvo Part, who invented his own personal musical language, called tintinnabuli, in the late 1970's. This style, along with giving Part the label of a sacred minimalist (which he hates), also seems to have captured the attention of nearly every musicologist and theorist in the Northern Hemisphere! SO much has been written about Part and his music already, an impressive feat given he was almost unheard of outside Estonia until the mid 80's. He's also given me a number of ideas about how to approach my own music. I'm eager to try them out in the next pieces that I write!

Speaking of which, part of my blog silence has been due to finishing up a few pieces begun earlier this summer, the first of which is Persephone. This is a trombone/vibraphone duet written for the fantastic trombonist and good friend Nate Brown and myself. The story of Persephone is not a happy one: she was the Greek goddess of the underworld, but not by choice. Legend says that Hades abducted her, then tricked her into eating fruit from the underworld, dooming her to remain there nine months of the year. The other three months she returns to the earth as a goddess of vegetation, giving the earth its harvest season.

This was a rather difficult piece to write, mainly because I prefer the stories I set to be of the happy variety. I tried to counteract the awfulness of the "underworld" sections by making the "overworld" parts as bright as possible (AKA I used B major). When heavy subject matter is involved I also try and end the piece on a happy note (pun intended) and hopefully that came across in this piece.

The other project involves a dance collaboration for the Amirah Women's Shelter in Boston with Ana Lossing, an amazing undergraduate choreographer at CMU. She assembled a collection of quotes from six women at the shelter detailing their stories of being involved with sex trafficking and forced prostitution. I then set those stories to music, an even more difficult task considering these are REAL people, not some mythological figure.

I also brought on some friends to help tell these stories, mainly bassist Jacob Webster. the first section of the piece has him performing alone, with aleatoric (free-form) music supporting the recitation of the stories. the second half is a bit more "traditional" and uses a string quartet plus a piano. While some of the players I do not know yet, my good friend Kelly Vander Molen will be leading the quartet and pianist Miguel Sousa will be stepping in to play that particular part. There's also the dancers Ana will be leading, as well as whoever we get to narrate the stories. It's great to have so many awesome people to work with telling these stories. They NEED to be told.

Finally there's the second movement of the Crystal Ballet to wrap up. This mainly involves adjusting the electronic background to my liking and recording some additional material the next week. I'm going to be keeping my mouth shut now about the rest of it, wouldn't want to spoil the premiere in December now, would I?

Of course there are other pieces on the horizon, but right now I have enough to keep me busy!

Wow, less than a month into this "weekly blogging" thing and I already messed it up. Sincere apologies to whoever follows this from week to week.

As I said last time, this week I'll be going more in-depth into the structure of the Crystal Ballet, specifically the first movement, Solid Crystal. A solid crystal-type structure has its molecules arranged in a tightly packed, grid-like format. This immediately brought to my mine the concepts of stability and rigidness. Laura also thought of the idea of stasis, or an unchangeable constant.

Obviously the music couldn't be completely static; no one would want to listen to a piece where nothing changed! Still, the concept of stasis and stability I felt had to be represented somehow. I settled on giving the first movement a constant tempo, or pulse. From this came the idea of subdivisions. Rhythm in music is made by chopping up, or subdividing, sound and silence into smaller and larger chunks. Simple subdivisions of a pulse are made by continually cutting the pulse in half. Despite being smaller than the main pulse, subdivisions are still related to it by this halving. Therefore, to remain within the "rules" of the movement I could only play rhythms that were subdivisions of the main pulse. This restriction still left room for plenty of variety, as I could mix and match subdivisions at will.

Being a percussionist, I believed the best way to show these rhythmic "slices" is with a drum. I choose to use a doumbek, a goblet-shaped hand drum frequently used in Eastern European, Middle Eastern and North African music. There's an enormous variety to the sounds it is capable of making, which fit the ever-evolving background track I play to quite well. Also, I had joined a Gypsy band called Kavazabava earlier in the year and played doumbek quite frequently with them. I wanted to get better at the instrument, so I considered this a good training/practice tool for it. As for the background track, that is mostly all...cymbals. Specifically, I recorded myself playing a pair of china cymbals in every manner I could think of, then altered their sound electronically...also in every manner I could think of. How do cymbals relate to solid crystals? To be honest, I don't know. I simply liked the sound of a china cymbal and thought its rich harmonic spectrum could be used to make the varied musical textures I was to play behind.

Now for the musical form: how in the world can a crystal influence this? A crystal's structure is a grid, which as stated above does not change. I still wanted some variety, so I decided on a simple ABA'B'C form. The A sections are what I call a "birds-eye view" of the entire crystal. These sections have relatively little rhythmic activity and a hefty amount of reverberation to give the impression of a large space. The B sections, in contrast, are "close-ups" of the atoms that make up the crystal. Although they don't move much, each atom has a swarm of electrons buzzing around it like bees. More rhythmic activity (and less reverb) is therefore needed to represent this, so the B sections are filled with grooves and improvisations. I alternate between these two extremes twice, then transition into the C section. This sounds similar to the A sections in that there is an "openness" to it. However, there aren't any "solid" hits (aka I don't hit my doumbek). This section serves as a transition into the section movement, where a "flame" is lit and the crystal molecules begin to move.

Next week will be devoted to editing and mixing the ballet's second movement, which is "on the table" (or specifically, on Ableton Live). As such, I won't be discussing it; instead I'll be discussing...something else...which I'll think of this week. If you haven't gotten to hear the first movement yet, I've imbedded it below!

I've gotten several requests from people to explain a bit more about the Crystal Ballet (working title) I've been working on, and for good reason. Art by its nature can be very abstract (i.e strange) and the subject matter of this project is no exception. I'll try and explain the idea behind the ballet, our collaboration, and what my collaborators and I are hoping to achieve with it.

The project got its start in the spring of 2013, when my friend Laura Donnelly, a dance instructor at Kansas State University, met Amit Chakrabarti, a physics professor and chair of the physics department at KSU. Amit mentioned that he had an idea for a ballet based on the physics of a solid crystal structure melting, then resolidifying into a glass. Laura was quite intrigued by the concept and decided to make it a reality. Shortly after, I was asked to provide the musical material. Before making the ballet, however, Laura and I needed a little bit of a physics lesson from Amit to grasp the science behind crystals.

Amit drew several pictures as he talked to make the concepts easy to understand. I haven't taken physics since high school, so this helped GREATLY in getting an idea of what a crystal is! Essentially, a crystal has its atoms arranged in a tightly packed, grid-like structure. When enough heat is applied to this grid, the atoms begin to move and eventually break out of the grid, traveling in random directions. If the heat is then turned down slowly, he atoms eventually return to their normal grid structure. However, if the atoms are quickly cooled they instead come together in tiny, random clumps, forming a glass.

After this bit of learning came the hard part: figuring out what we wanted to SAY with this ballet. One of the first guidelines we agreed upon was the work wasn't to literally depict physics through music and dance as a sort of teaching aid. This is what's known as arts integration, and while it has become a great educational tool in recent years we felt the project wasn't a good fit for that approach. Instead, we decided to have the physics guide and inspire the music and dance as a unifying theme. We feel that both the arts and sciences can benefit with each informing the other this way. In addition, we wanted to show the world the level collaboration that we wanted to do; each of our creative input to this work would inform the others' and change the overall outcome of the project. Above all else, we wanted to inspire others to undertake their own collaborations and see what they might discover.

Then our talk got down to brass tacks. How long would the ballet be? Who would perform the music? When would it be performed? How would we get it funded? Also, how do you advertise something like this? Could we distribute it somehow? After a bit of brainstorming, we settled on a three-movement form for the ballet, corresponding to a crystal's solid, melted, and glass forms. Each movement would transitionseamlessly from one to the next, as we thought this would reflect the gradual morphing of one form to the next. The ballet itself would be around 12-14 minutes; any longer and the dancers would begin to have fatigue issues (dancing takes a LOT of energy). As for the music performers, I decided I would write for a solo percussionist (myself) playing both acoustic and electronic instruments along with an audio track. The "when" question was answered by having a series of performances. The first movement would be premiered one semester, the first and second the next, and the entire work the third. This made it much easier for Laura, as she could choreograph and teach her dancers one movement at a time (pun intended), and not have the monster task of setting an entire work in one semester. Plus, it gave our collaboration more visibility with the added performances (which means more opportunities for me to play percussion, always a plus!).

Funding this project has involved a variety of sources which have evolved over time. Each of the ballet's performances are a part of either SpringDance or WinterDance, which are biannual recitals KSU's dance department puts on. This means thankfully we didn't have to spend much money on advertisements or performance spaces, which can add up quickly. I also received a Graduate Creative Endeavors Grant from Central Michigan University this spring to offset much of the travel costs getting to the performances, of which I am very thankful for as well (plane tickets aren't cheap, people). Finally, we've also applied for a New Music USA grant to offset costs with equipment, performers, and other production costs. We'll find out tomorrow whether that has been rewarded and I'll be sure to post an update.

Next week I'll discuss how I wrote the first movement of the ballet, which premiered this March at KSU's SpringDance. Of course, it would would be silly of me not to give you something to listen to, so here's a recording of said premiere!

Wow, I really dropped the ball on the whole "blogging" thing this past year. Well, now's as good a time to start as ever, I guess... If you are unaware, today happens to be my 24th birthday. I figured it would be a good time to reflect on the various events which occurred the past year. Before I do so, take a listen to this song from the musical Rent (or rather, the film version of the musical):

There's a lot of things I enjoy about this song, especially the main message of love (and one of the best piano hooks I've heard since Count Basie [and Coldplay]). However, I also love the way the lyrics describe various other ways to measure a year. I've certainly experienced daylights and sunsets, as well as PLENTY of midnights. The "cups of coffee" line certainly applies to me as a musician, and that number has become uncountable in recent months (there are a LOT more papers to write in a Masters degree than I thought). I've traveled several inchesthis year on foot to get to my grad classes at Central Michigan University as well as on random walks to think over stuff on my mind. My car has had many miles added to its odometer, mostly on trips to and from Kansas (although it did get to experience Kentucky last October when I went to an SCI conference). And of course I've had a great many moments of laughter and strife, thankfully much more of the former than the latter. However, I really don't think any of these measurements work too well to measure my life this year. So what's another way to measure 525,600 minutes? As a composer, I could do it by the number of works I've gotten done over that period of time. It has been a very active year for me in that regard, as I pushed myself to simply write more than I ever have before. My list of works now includes several instrumental duets, a brass/percussion fanfare, two orchestral transcriptions, an original orchestral piece, multiple dance music pieces, and even a work for choir and percussion (because I have to satisfy my percussion writing craving SOMEHOW). While I am very happy to have written that much, I think there's a lot more to my life than just the notes I've put on paper, so what else is there? I could measure the last 31,536,000 seconds in terms of what I've done performance-wise and in grad school. I haven't been extremely active in performing as I used to (see the above paragraph to understand why), but I did get to take part in some awesome opportunities. I joined the Balkan-Klezmer-Gypsy band Kavazabava and formed a duo with my friend Frank Nawrot dedicated to new music. At CMU I also played in the New Music Ensemble and in the pit for their production of 42nd Street, both of which were an absolute blast!Academically, I wrote a literature review (i.e. a report of current research) of the uses and effectiveness of color in music notation and managed to get it presented at a state music conference and at CMU. This may also lead to further research, as apparently there's still more to uncover in that area (although when I'll have time to do said research is another story). Still, these don't appear to be a very good way to express things either. So what is there? How can I measure these 8,760 hours? The song from Rent says to "measure in love," which I have certainly expressed, but love is by design unmeasurable (thank goodness!). I think a better way would be to "celebrate, remember a year in the life of friends." I've gained so many friends this past year, be they schoolmates, musicians, dancers, composers, choreographers, apartment dwellers, or brothers and sisters in Christ. There's a ton of overlap in those categories of friends I just mentioned, which is even more incredible and awesome. Through my experiences with my friends I've grown so much as a human being and I can't thank them enough for this. I can only hope that next year brings me even more of them!

Hello to all! This is the first in what I hope will be a long series of posts about music and my journey through this crazy world/business/dream. Hopefully I can entertain you with my rantings as well as inform/teach about the various facets of music. Before I do so, I'll begin by telling a bit about how I got wrapped in all of this musical insanity.

I'm originally from Olathe, Kansas, a large suburb in the southwest corner of the Kansas City metropolitan area. I took up percussion in 5th grade (somewhat begrudgingly, as my parents said I had to play something and stick with it) and have been composing since...well, I'm not too sure. It's easy to say for playing an instrument, as one can usually remember the first time they picked up some strange contraption and attempted to move air with it in a somewhat coordinated and hopefully musical fashion (that's why I've always liked percussion. No key/valve combinations, just pick up a stick and hit something).

With composition it's a bit more tricky. If we're talking about the first time I started to put notes on paper, I think that would be around age thirteen or fourteen. I wrote about 4 measures of an ode to the PC game Half-Life, then quickly got bored and impatient as I usually did and abandoned the project. A short time later I asked my parents for a copy of the engraving program Finale for Christmas, as I thought this would make writing and conceptualizing much quicker. Surprise surprise, it didn't. I only managed a few measures of melody before I again gave up on notated music making.

It was extremelyfrustrating for me because the music was there in my head, but not out there, in real life where I wanted it to be. This brings me to the tricky part of when I started composing. I'm of the opinion that one can compose anywhere; on paper, on the computer, on a napkin, or in their head. How else can composers like Paul Hindemith or Mozart write so much music in the course of their lifetimes? Since most of us cannot spend every waking hour of every day in front of a piano hacking out melody and harmony, a vivid musical imagination is necessary. If this is the case, I'm not sure when I started composing. I've had some sort of music bouncing around my skull as long as I can remember, but it was fairly recently that I started to put my thoughts onto paper (probably after getting through that whole awkward, immature, impatient middle schooler phase of life, good riddance).

However, even that took a bit of coaxing for me to accomplish. I had been taking percussion lessons with Keith Larson since 7th grade and towards the end of my junior year in high school he got an idea. I had a habit of "altering" my assigned music, either because I couldn't play it as written or thought of something different (i.e. better) to play. Other times I would forgo the lesson material entirely and improvise randomly. This of course didn't set well with Keith, and rightly so. Instead of chewing me out (again) he tasked me with writing a piece for the studio percussion ensemble I was in. I obliged and eventually gave him an arrangement of a Zimbabwean thumb piano melody I had been kicking around in my head (I have somewhat eclectic tastes in music). That piece led to another and soon I was writing on a relatively regular basis, mostly for Keith's percussion ensemble.

After graduation I decided to major in music and went to Kansas State University as a Bachelor of Arts in music performance. My original goal was to mix music study with social studies (ethnomusicology or something similar), but after a semester I decided just focusing on music was more rewarding (and had fewer required non-music classes). I switched the next semester to a Bachelor of Music in performance and a year after that to composition.

I'm not exactly sure why I picked performance at all instead of composition. Perhaps I was trying to impress Keith, perhaps I was unaware or ignorant of any careers in music aside from performance, or maybe I just was so enthralled by playing percussion in so many ensembles and teaching private lessons that I forgot I had always liked to compose more. A series of events my sophomore year, including wrist injuries and dealing with some severe anxiety issues, convinced me that performance probably wasn't the proper career path for me and so I finally switched over to composition and graduated this past May with my degree.

Now granted, I still play percussion as it's a lot of fun, but I would say composition is my main focus now (there are a select few composers who can get by with only writing *coughEricWhitacrecough* but those people are both extremely gifted and extremely lucky, of which I am neither). Lately I've been getting involved in aspects of electronics and audio production (recording, mastering, electronic music, etc.) which I hope to hone along with my composing and teaching skills as I get my Masters degree in Composition these next two years from Central Michigan University.

My basic career plan at the moment is this: do something involving music and preferably get paid enough doing it to be able to live off of. What seems likely for me is a career teaching at a university, but who knows what will happen these next two years? Maybe I'll get lucky and can live off composing on commission, maybe I'll join a punk-rock/polka/techno band, perhaps I'll pull a Charles Ives and dabble in insurance while composing on the side. Life's an open roads and there are several paths through it. I'll just see which turns I'll take as I get to them.